


you should get some sun

by heatwves



Series: sambucky concepts [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Grief, M/M, Mentions of Riley, Sitting in the Sun, i guess??, idk this is so small idek how to tag it, slightly angsty, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 22:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatwves/pseuds/heatwves
Summary: Sam is grieving, and Bucky tries to help
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Series: sambucky concepts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217450
Comments: 6
Kudos: 143





	you should get some sun

**Author's Note:**

> title inspired by the song "rylan" by the national. i just wanted to write something quick and from sam's pov, and write bucky trying to help sam deal with stuff for once, so this happened. this is just a small study on sam.

He wakes up to Bucky shaking him gently and whispering his name. “Wake up, Sam. I made breakfast.”

On any other day he would make a snarky comment, just so he can see Bucky do that cute eye-roll he does. But today he overslept on purpose, and he wants to be left alone, so he turns on the bed and faces the other way. 

It makes him feel like a little kid who doesn’t want to go to school, except he’s an adult who doesn’t want to go to work. Not that work is the issue itself, but he’s pretty sure that if anyone makes a wrong move today he’ll either break down crying or break their face. The jury's still out on which.

“Sam,” Bucky calls again, and Sam just groans a “no” in response. Yeah, he’s being  _ that _ type of person today. 

He hears Bucky walk around the room and open the curtains, and then leave the room. Sam covers his face with a pillow to protect him from the sunlight.

Usually, on this date, he takes the day off. But there are no days off on this particular job, so all he’s asking is for five more minutes of peace and quiet, and sleep so he doesn’t have to deal with his thoughts. 

He should’ve known Bucky wouldn’t quit that easily, though. He hears loud clunking noises coming from the kitchen (you’d expect the Winter Soldier to be less noisy, but no, he walks around the house as if he’s intent on waking up the neighbours), and Sam hugs his pillow tighter, failing to cover his ears from the noise.

“Alright,” Bucky sighs, walking into the room. He hears him set something down. Sam doesn’t want to turn around because then he’ll see Bucky, and Bucky will see him, and then try to get Sam to do things and Sam doesn’t want to do anything. “Since you won’t get to breakfast, I’m bringing breakfast to you.”

Usually, he’d complain that breakfast in bed is a whole mess, and that he doesn’t want to get breadcrumbs on his sheets. But he’s too busy trying not to stop himself from crying at the kind gesture. (Oh, so it’s a  _ break down crying _ type of day. He hates when that happens). When he manages to gather himself, he turns to face Bucky.

Bucky’s standing next to his bed, arms crossed, annoyed look on his face. Which is Bucky’s way of showing that he’s worried about Sam - he’s been around Bucky long enough to be able to tell. 

“Thanks,” Sam says, smiling faintly. He sits on the bed, and Bucky sits next to him and hands him the tray. 

“I brought my food as well,” Bucky says, and that gets a laugh out of Sam. “I hope that’s okay.”   
“Of course you did,” Sam replies, his smile now not so weak. At least today he has Bucky around. Some days he had no one around, and those were rough. “It’s fine. If you ruin my sheets I’m locking you out of the house, though.”

He points a finger at Bucky and Bucky just quirks his lips and raises his eyebrows. “This is a threat,” Sam says. “And get your mind out of the gutter.”

They’ve got a  _ thing _ going on, but they don’t talk about it. Today is not the day to talk about it either. One day it will be, but not today. Today he’s just happy he’s got Bucky around. 

Bucky digs into his own food before Sam even gets the chance to grab his. Bucky made them grilled cheese sandwiches which aren’t terrible, but they are a good reminder of why Sam usually does the cooking around the house.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asks, and Sam just shakes his head no, because the question drained all the energy from him all of a sudden. Bucky nods and takes another bite out of his sandwich.

“Let’s take the morning off, yeah? We don’t have much to do today, we can do it in the afternoon” Bucky says, without skipping a beat. It took Sam a while to learn how Bucky showed affection, but this was one of his ways - carving out time to be with Sam.

Finding time for themselves during missions was hard, because they were unpredictable, and every day was different. Sam had gotten pretty used to his routine back home, and then when Steve came along it all changed. And it was good, it was a welcome change, but sometimes he still missed his routine.

And today he missed his home as well. It was a nice home, and it took him a while to fill it with things he liked. He remembers sleeping on just a mattress when he had first moved in. Then slowly gathering his things from his parent’s house, and then buying his own stuff. But most importantly, it was his, and he always knew where he’d be coming back to after a long day.

Nowadays he didn’t have that certainty, the only steady thing in his life being that Bucky is always alongside him. Which just makes him more afraid to lose Bucky - he has to stop himself from thinking about these things. Not today. He doesn’t have the headspace for it today.

He sips the coffee that Bucky made him (Sam’s is better, they both agree), and when he’s done Bucky takes everything back.

“Get dressed,” Bucky shouts from the kitchen. “We’re going for a walk.”

Despite the fact that he feels like a dog being taken out, the walk ends up being pretty helpful, helps him clear his head. Bucky holds his hand the whole way, and they don’t talk, but it’s comforting to feel the sun on his skin and Bucky’s hand on his. Of course, they’re both wearing their sunglasses-and-cap outfit that they use to not be seen, just in case, just to be safe. 

They end up in a garden somewhere, and settle themselves underneath a tree. Sam is sprawled on the ground, letting the grass tickle him, sunglasses forgotten inside one of his pockets. Bucky sits down right in front of his head, cross-legged, gently grabs Sam’s left hand and massages it mindlessly. 

“This is nice,” Sam says. His face is in the shade and the rest of his body is in the sun, warm and comfortable. There’s a light breeze, and it smells like spring, which is resulting in mixed emotions for Sam.

He decides he should talk about it, if anything just because he’s the one who’s always telling Bucky to share what’s on his mind. It’d be hypocritical of him not to share, right? 

“Today’s the day he died,” Sam says, and the fact that it’s been a couple of years now doesn’t make it any easier to say.

Bucky lets go of Sam’s left and grabs his right one, gently rubbing Sam’s knuckles. “I figured,” he says. His voice is so gentle, Sam could probably fall asleep listening to it. “How are you holding up?”

“The sun is helping, not going to lie,” Sam chuckles, but he’s sure his eyes are showing his sadness. He inhales deeply. “It’s still hard to think about, even after all these years.”

“Well, grief doesn’t have an expiration date,” Bucky replies. “It’s alright if it’s still difficult.”

Sam doesn’t reply, but he shifts around and settles his head on Bucky’s lap. He had strong thighs, and they made for a good pillow, much softer than the grass. 

“It’s not your fault, you know?” Bucky says, and Sam’s eyes burn. He feels his eyes getting wet, and he tells himself he’s not going to cry in a public park. Even if it’s empty. He’s  _ not _ . And he’s not going to let Bucky make him cry by just repeating soundbites he’s learned from Sam. (Maybe he should listen to himself one of these days).

“Sometimes I feel like you haven’t made peace with yourself yet,” Bucky continues,” I know what it’s like to keep blaming yourself over and over. But it’s not your fault, Sam.”

“I know,” Sam says, and he sounds so unconvinced he can’t even fool himself. His cheeks feel wet, and Bucky dries them with his palm.

“Do you?” Bucky asks, and looks down, eyes locking with Sam.

Sam stretches out his arm and touches Bucky’s face. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, not really. It won’t help much, he’s had it plenty of times with himself. He’ll make peace with it eventually, he knows that. It just takes time.

“Thank you for being here,” Sam says.

Bucky smiles. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“I know,” Sam replies, and he tucks a strand of Bucky’s hair under his ear, but it doesn’t work because of gravity, “but thank you.”

Bucky leans down and kisses Sam’s forehead. “I’m always here for you. I hope you know that.”

Sam does know, but it’s nice to hear it said out loud once in a while. Bucky hovers over him a little longer, and then decides to lie down perpendicular to Sam. Sam rests his head on Bucky’s chest, feeling it go up and down with Bucky's breathing.

That’s the first year he doesn’t visit Riley’s grave, which isn’t exactly something Sam’s happy about, but if he’s being honest, Riley wouldn’t have wanted him to wallow in misery all day. So Sam doesn’t feel like he’s dishonoring his memory by spending the rest of his morning in the sun, his eyes closed, just listening to the city noises and passerby’s conversations.

He doesn’t feel happy that day, and that’s okay, some days you just have to live through, Sam has learned. But having Bucky next to him makes those days a little bit more tolerable, and maybe that’s what healing is about - finding ways to make it all a bit more bearable.

**Author's Note:**

> fatws in a few hours weeeeeeeee. if you have any prompts youd like me to write send them my way @buckybarneshttp on tumblr


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